I will never complain about the weather in Manchester
again. Manchester is notorious for its
constant rain, and grey skies. I grew up
in Manchester and sometimes think it gets a bit of a bad press (especially
after living in Cardiff where I would say it rains a lot more than
Manchester). Yet the rain in Manchester
is nothing compared to the rain in Sandema.
Admittedly there are different types of rain back home. There is the fine rain (that, according to
Peter Kay, soaks you right through), then there is “spitting” (after
experiencing rain in Africa, I can no longer classify that as rain…), there is
heavy rain…big, fat rain where you would rather be anywhere than outside. These are just a few examples of the types of
rain back home. Let’s not get too
carried away classifying rain….you can do that in your own time.
Since the end of April we have experienced rain about once a
week here in Sandema. This “rain” most
definitely cannot be classified as fine rain.
In fact, there is nothing about this rain that resembles rain
in the UK,
except for the fact that it is wet.
 |
| A lady standing in rain; unadvisable in Ghana |
You can usually tell when it is going to rain here; the
usually blue sky will start to turn a grey-black colour, and the air will be
heavy with humidity. Before every rain
storm we have experienced thus far the sky has lit up with flashes of
lightening illuminating the countryside and landscape around us – this can go
on for hours at a time (and is usually followed by “lights out”
(powercut)). But before you experience
the rain, you are confronted with the wind.
It can sometimes sound like an army is storming up the road at full
pace. It is not advisable to be outside
as the dust flies up like a mini cyclone.
(I would also advise you bring your washing in at this point too….nobody
needs to see your underwear flying across town!).
When the rain starts to fall, it really starts. Big, fat drops of water batter your
surroundings, and the sound of the rain on your tin roof only heightens the
experience. There are moments when you
actually think your roof might cave in.
The following morning you awake (or just get up as it is
unlikely you got much sleep that night!) with trepidation as you review what
damage has been caused. We are in a very
fortunate position that the worst that is likely to happen is a few chairs
might get thrown around. Our guest house
is on high ground, and the cottages are built up, so the chance of flooding is
practically non-existant.
We have experienced however how much the rain can disrupt
life in the Builsa district. Our plans
and meetings usually get cancelled the day after heavy rain as the people we
wish to meet need to stay and work on their homes, tend to their farms, or try
to rescue any damaged stock, stores, or buildings. We are only just entering the rainy season; I
daren’t imagine the devastation that will occur when the rainy season gets into
full swing. Whilst we may be lucky in
our accommodation, the same cannot be said for the rest of Sandema.
.jpg) |
| The road into Sandema, flooded |
Much of the town is at risk of flooding, and in 2012 the
National Disaster Management Organisation reported 325 houses had been affected by flooding (houses having either been flooded or collapsed), displacing 715
people. The communities surrounding
Sandema are also in danger, not to mention the destruction of the roads linking Sandema to the rest of the Builsa district, and the bigger towns of Navrongo. Even with the few rains we have had, roads
have already started to erode, trees have collapsed, power lines have been cut,
and houses have been damaged. The
implications of this is much greater than any inconvenience we might experience
due to bad weather back home – if a road is destroyed or a bridge collapses,
that community is cut off.
On a trip to
Uwasi, one of the more remote villages we have visited, we had to drive through
the river bed in order to access the town because the bridge was no longer
safe. Now that the rains have begun, and
the rivers are filling up, the only way for us to access that village will be
to cross the river by foot…and then walk the remaining 10km to our
destination. Imagine having to do that
on a daily basis just to make a living.
And yet with as much devastation that the rain causes, the
rain is welcomed whole-heartedly. It is
needed. The rainy season generally lasts
about 4 months, falling between May and September. It is during this short period of the year
where everyone plants their crops (approx. 70% of people in the Builsa district
farm at some level); the crops that will feed them for the remaining 8 months
of the year. If you are lucky to have
the manpower and land to farm on a larger scale, you depend on this rainy
season to grow your crops that will also provide you with an income.
According to the Ministry of Food and Agriculture, about 1.2
million people are food insecure; 15% of whom are from the Upper East
region. A further 2 million people are
vulnerable to food insecurity, meaning that a bad rain fall, no rain at all, or
any other shock ensures that their access to food deteriorates rapidly. The Upper East has been found to be the
region most severely affected by food insecurity (Quaye, 2008). Of course the rain is not the sole cause of
food insecurity (other causes include chieftaincy conflicts, rise in food and
fuel prices, and climate change), but it most definitely is one of the leading
causes.
When the rain falls here in Sandema, it really does fall,
but there is a fine line between it having a positive or a negative effect.
So when it next rains wherever you are, or if your bus or
train is cancelled due to bad weather, before you grumble and complain have a
little think about how much it will really affect you. Is it a minor
inconvenience to your day, or has your life been turned upside down by it?
